


The First Laugh

by xxmurdercityxx



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batjokes, Highschool AU, M/M, batjokes highschool au, jack napier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2020-09-06 15:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxmurdercityxx/pseuds/xxmurdercityxx
Summary: Bruce and the Joker are both trying to figure out what's going on at their High School. Will the be able to work together or will they become rivals? Will rich boy Bruce Wayne be able to experience a normal final year of highschool with exam stress, friend drama and high school sweet-hearts or will the curse of Batman follow him even there? Find out, next time on-





	1. The Boy With The Pretty Eyes

A soft warmth slowly bled across Bruce Wayne’s face. He shuffled slightly in his sheets, letting out a quiet sigh as he readjusted. When the warmth was suddenly gone, he opened his eyes to a figure blocking the sun from his open window. Alfred. He closed his eyes again, mumbling an almost indistinguishable ‘Good morning’.

“I’m sorry to disrupt you, but don’t you remember what day it is today?”. A moments silence, and then a quiet groan, Bruce pulled the sheets over his head. Alfred was making him go back to school.  
School, unlike for most young adults his age, had never been a constant for Bruce. He’d taken almost a full year off after his parents had died. After that his attendance had been spotty at best and now since the creation of Batman, he hadn’t bothered to go at all. The academics of it were not a problem, but Alfred insisted that he make an effort in his final year for the social aspect if nothing else. Bruce understood this, but it wouldn’t make him any less annoyed about having to go.

“Come on now, you wouldn’t want to be late on your first day back.” Bruce reluctantly sat up in his bed as Alfred laid his uniform down on his dresser.

“Thank you, Alfred.” The butler gave a nod, and then left Bruce to change.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so hard if he was going back at the beginning of the year, or even the beginning of a new term, but today was right in the middle of term 3, and as annoying as it was, they’d left Bruce’s return late enough already. He begrudgingly stood and slipped the white, linen shirt on against his bare skin, wincing slightly as his arm stretched to find the second sleeve; being Batman did not come without its hardships. Bruce was careful in dressing into the rest of his uniform, though easy excuses could be made he’d rather avoid the lies altogether and not alert anyone to the injures that would lie underneath his clothing. Slowly, this time, his arms found their way around the deep red blazer. He took a step to his right and turned to face the mirror. Running his fingers down the stitching of the lapel, refusing to meet his own eyes, his mind went straight to his parents. They would have liked seeing him in his high school uniform like this. However, Bruce’s thoughts were quickly interrupted;

“Master Bruce, please hurry we’re very much behind schedule!”

Bruce spent the rest of the morning in a haze, and soon the pair were approaching the school that Bruce had not been to in over 6 months.

“You can drop me here Alfred,” Bruce offered.

“Are you sure? You don’t need me to come in? Help you with your bags?” The worry in the old man’s voice made Bruce’s lip curl upward in a slight smile despite the unease that came with being thrown into the unknown, particularly with every other student well and truly settled into the new term.

“It’s okay Alfred, this isn’t Middle School anymore. Besides, I don’t want to make a scene.”

“I assure you we wouldn’t be doing any of the sort, this is an elite school after all.” When Bruce made no comment in reply, Alfred continued “Very well, I’ll drop you here.”

Bruce stepped out of the car as Alfred slowed to a stop, “Be careful, call me if you need anything at all”

“I know, I know” he smiled and picked up his bag “I’ll see you tonight, Alfred”

He watched as the sleek, black car drove away and any familiarity left with it. A long inhale, and a loud sigh began Bruce’s walk towards campus. It wasn’t the classes themselves that he was dreading, it was the immature culture that came with it, the lunchtimes alone he’d spend, and the fake people trying to make friends with The Bruce Wayne. He’d done it all before. Different school, same people.

“Bruce Wayne~”

He turned suddenly at his name, expecting reporters or some students that had recognised him, instead he let out a sigh of relief;

“Selina…” It came out more desperate than he’d intended, though she didn’t seem to notice “I didn’t know you went here.”

“I didn’t know you went to school at all” she joked, getting a small smile and an amused huff out of the usually serious billionaire.

“I’m glad there’s at least one familiar face around here”

“I think there’ll be more than you expect” Selina’s words were light, but her tone hinted to something less carefree as the two passed the campus gates.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in homeroom C would you?” Bruce asked.

“I sure am”

“Good… I have to go get my timetable from reception, but I’ll see you there later” Bruce managed to mimic her smile as she left in the direction of the Year 12 building. He took a moment to properly assess his surroundings as he wandered to reception. The school was old, a good hundred years Bruce guessed, touches of green vines and bushes oddly in place with the grey bricks that lined the pathways. Once he’d reached reception, it was clear that the school didn’t completely identify with the classic old Gotham architecture, whilst the outside seemed faded, the interior design screamed modern, the latest technology sat upon white tables which mirrored much of the rest of the inside, with the occasional pop of colour to seem more inviting. It was a good school, Bruce concluded, a nice environment, despite how underwhelming his experience here might be, at least it has that.

“Mr Wayne!” The receptionist seemed to recognise him “Welcome back,” she pronounced enthusiastically, frantically shoving papers around on her desk eventually pulling one from the pile.  
“This is your timetableeeeee,” she drew out the word as if it were something Bruce needed an extra second to understand, “it has all the classroom numbers on it and I’ve stapled a map to the back so hopefully you won’t have too much trouble getting around.” The speed at which those words flew from her mouth was astonishing, and for a second Bruce missed that slightly condescending drawn out style she began with.

Bruce inhaled deeply, in an attempt to gather a more realistic smile “Thank you very much.” Desperate to end the interaction as soon as possible he added “Have a nice day” and swiftly headed towards his homeroom.

The year 12 building was just as nice as the reception room, if not a little cosier. Different coloured lockers lined the carpeted hallways, one very large window overlooking the oval framed one side, while classroom doors framed the other. A glance down at his timetable confirmed his homeroom to be in room 214. When Bruce lifted his head once more he was stopped in his tracks. Though only held for a mere moment, Bruce’s light grey eyes locked with dazzling emerald green ones, at such close range, Bruce had almost walked straight into the boy, he breathed in every detail. Beautifully pale skin delicately wrapped around the boy’s brilliant eyes, green, but with a thin ring of yellow that mimicked the shape of his pupil. Strands of his hair, only a shade darker stray down his forehead to tease his eyelashes. A jolt of embarrassment shoots through Bruce’s chest, reminding him that he’s in fact at school, not observing a crime scene.

“Uhh…” His eyes race to his timetable for some sort of safe space, away from the boy but not awkwardly anywhere other than him. For all his embarrassment, the boy seems to take no notice of Bruce, continuing on his way into the classroom. Bruce’s gaze follows him, and a look towards the classroom door confirms it; room 214. Gingerly, Bruce made his way into the room, scanning the rows of tables for Selina. Thankfully, she’d saved him a seat in the second row. Right in front of the boy with the pretty eyes. He slowly sat, placing his bag atop the desk.  
“Well that was awkward” Selina smirked, but before Bruce could retort a woman in a black dress stepped one foot into the room.

“I hope you haven’t made yourself too comfortable Mr Napier, Principals office. Now.” Seeming flustered, the woman sharply pushed her slipping glasses up her face, whatever had occurred she was clearly not happy.

Having not known any names other than Selina, Bruce waited for any indication of who ‘Mr Napier’ may be. The screech of the metal legs of the chair against the boarded floor sounded directly behind him. The boy with the pretty eyes in an unbelievably calm manner, walked over to the doorway and left, sparing a quick glance and a wink to one of the girls in his row before departing. To Bruce’s surprise there were no whispers, no unzipping of dress pockets in order to make a hasty group text to begin a chain of rumours about someone being sent to the principal. Unwilling to admit that rumour culture had disappeared by high school’s final year, Bruce could only assume that ‘Mr Napier’s visits to head office weren’t something of a rare occurrence.  
“I am awfully sorry about that,” the darkly dressed woman huffed, making her way to the front of the room “unfortunately I must continue with some more bad news.” Once again adjusting her glasses, she went on;

“There has been a significant number of students suffering from anxiety and panic attacks in the past week,” she hesitated, “…around one in three of you, though we haven’t seen numbers quite as alarming as these before, it’s very natural to be stressed about the academic pressures we encourage, we do put a lot of emphasis on doing well in your assessments but believe me when I tell you that it is all for your own benefit. If any of you begin to feel panicked about the upcoming exams, this school as an excellent counselling service that is free for all students, please do not hesitate to make use of it”

Her words began to bleed into the back of Bruce Wayne’s mind, his brain began to tick. It was one thing for students to be stressed about exams but one in three? It seemed absurd. But what else could possibly be lying behind the scenes, and if it was being caused by something less ‘natural’, then how was it so widespread? And even beyond that, who would be interested in targeting students of all people? His mind ran through all the questions, all the possibilities. Maybe high school wasn’t going to be quite as dull as Bruce had suspected.


	2. Something in the Water

Bruce chewed on the plastic straw of the juice box Alfred had put in his lunch. His elbow on the table, his chin resting on his palm. 

“-but not going to lie Bruce, I can’t stand her. There really is just something about her-”

He was only taking in snippets of Selina’s rant; his mind was elsewhere. Absentmindedly, a piece of plastic came loose in his teeth. Too lost in his thoughts to abide by the manners expected from the lone heir to the biggest company in Gotham, he spat the plastic onto the otherwise neat lunch table, letting his eyes lazily scan the room. 

“-I would be careful of the maths teacher as well; she is the biggest tight ass I’ve ever come across-”

If someone had done something to cause this epidemic of anxiety among the student body, then how would they have done it? Additionally, Bruce didn’t know near enough about the year level to line up any likely suspects. 

“-also you should know, pretty much everyone in our year level heard that-“

“Selina?” Bruce’s tone was less of a question, more of a demand for attention.

“What?”

“Who should I…” he paused for a moment, deciding how to phrase the question “look out for?” 

She paused for a moment, then a sly smirk crept across her face, “are we looking for trouble Bruce?” 

“No, I just-”

She ignored Bruce’s attempt at denial and ran him through a crash-course of the rouges of their high school. Cobblepot and Nygma. Harley and Ivy. Dent, Freeze, Crane and finally 

“Jack Napier,” 

“The one who was called to the principal’s office this morning” Bruce observed. 

“That’s the one. There’s a lot of rumours going around about him, I know he’s kind of quiet and creepy around strangers but with his friends he seems nice, he’s a really funny guy.”

He went back to chewing on his straw, manoeuvring it around his tongue in thought. His eyes followed as one of the rouges stood, Edward, if he remembered correctly, and walked to the drink taps. The tall, lean boy leant down until his lips met the fountain of water. As Bruce watched, a thought entered his mind. If someone wanted to target students widespread… Could the water system be an option? 

A sigh escaped Selina’s lips “the bell is about to go,” she stated, “you have Literature next too right?” 

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Bruce stood, that same sound of metal legs scraping against the boarded floor of the lunchroom reminded Bruce of that boy- Jack. He shot a glace toward the table that he’d been sitting at, but his seat was now empty. Movement to his right broke Bruce’s gaze as Selina cocks her head to the side.

“Are you alright Bruce?” 

“Yes, yes. Fine.” 

If he was going to figure out what was going on at this school, he needed more than just his pencil case. Once out of earshot, Bruce pulled out his phone. 

“Alfred. I’m going to need a favour.” 

Though Alfred wasn’t thrilled about Bruce bringing anything Bat-Related into his school life, he managed to make it in a record five minutes, saving Bruce from sacrificing his dignity by having to hide in the bushes to avoid being asked why he wasn’t in class. A grateful thank you from Bruce and a light warning from Alfred left the younger man alone once again. A new addition to the scene, however, was a small metal rectangle easily concealable within his fist, a device to analyse the components of the school’s water. He turned the device over in his hands a few times in thought. If he was to only visit one drink tap, it may be too difficult to pick up any irregularities, no, he’d have to go to the source of the school’s water. Stealth was of no issue to Bruce as he strategically made his way through the campus. The map given to him by the receptionist had proved more useful that he’d ever imagined, whilst pointing out the most important areas of the school, it also marked those which Bruce shouldn’t have had any use for, the water tanks for example. Luckily for Bruce, the target wasn’t far, kept underground so as not to be pushed wildly off the ridiculously large campus, there was low risk of being caught in places where he shouldn’t be. 

With a glance over his shoulder, Bruce prepared to pick the lock on the door that led to the water tanks, however, with a soft click, the door opened on its own. It hadn’t been locked. Unexpected, but by no means a setback, Bruce continued with soft steps, as the large room was undeniably prone to echoes. Water droplets hitting concrete had never been so loud, Bruce could hear the very air escape his lips with every exhale. As he approached the bottom of the stairs that led underground, Bruce noticed the lights in one corner of the room were flickering, though with a first glance around the room it seemed empty, Bruce wouldn’t take any chances being caught. He let his eyelids fall shut, focusing on the sounds in the room in hope to hear the rise and fall of another person’s chest, the scuffle of footsteps, or anything else that might alert him to a second presence. He could hear… buzzing of electrical appliances, water struggling to escape a small hole in its metal prison, he could hear-

“Well if it isn’t rich boy Bruce Wayne~” he spun quickly to meet the voice behind him, desperate to assess the danger that he was in.  
Jack Napier. His tone had been playful, flirty, even. But the way he emphasised Bruce’s name made his blood boil, as if Bruce Wayne was a persona, a muse, not a real person. It occurred to Bruce that with all the interest he’d taken in Napier, he hadn’t yet heard him speak. He already wished that was still the case. 

“I got lost” 

The boy’s emerald eyes scanned Bruce from head to toe, deciding whether or not he really was stupid enough to get so horrendously lost, from his opening statement it was clear he didn’t have the highest opinion of Bruce Wayne, while it was insulting, it may be something that could work to Bruce’s advantage. 

His eyes paused at Bruce’s waist “That’s a fancy toy you have there Brucie” a shot of embarrassment pierced Bruce’s chest like a knife, his eyes dashing towards his waist until he realised what Jack had actually been referring to, the water analyser that Bruce held in his hand at waist-height. Jack found this hilarious. A burst of hoarse, high-pitched laughter enveloped the warehouse-like room, filling each corner with it’s sound, purifying the air. Unwilling to give the boy any more material to work with, Bruce stood quiet, pressing his lips together in annoyance. Not only was this embarrassment on a level Bruce had never had the displeasure of experiencing, Jack’s shrieks were so loud each corner of the campus may just about be able to hear them. Just as the sound faded from the atmosphere, Jack skipped over to Bruce, his wide smile fading eerily as fast as it had appeared. 

“You’re here about the panic attacks too” the boy observed, leaning in closer to Bruce’s face with absolutely no notion of personal space.

With a step back Bruce found no reason to lie again, it clearly wouldn’t get past him “Yes.” Ignoring Napier, Bruce walked closer to the water tanks, searching for a way to be able to test the water. Of course, the water tanks were too high to reach the top of and most likely enclosed even if he could make it to the top, each exit was also tightly enclosed to avoid spills, but there must be some way ins-

“What’s the verdict, big boy?” Jack interrupted his thoughts. 

“I’m trying to think” Bruce spared any politeness in his words, still scanning the area for any way into the water, though working with someone breathing down his neck clouded Bruce’s thoughts. This aggravated him further, now not only was Jack’s presence burdening, Bruce was beginning to look like an idiot. 

“Oh, come on now play nice, aren’t you going to share your secrets with your partner in crime?” another skip bought Jack to stand uncomfortably close to Bruce again. 

The billionaire may have scoffed if he was not gritting his teeth in anger. Partners? This was the first time the pair had even spoken. “We’re not partners” 

“Sure we are! We’re both fighting for the same goal aren’t we?” With that, Jack snatched the device from Bruce’s hands but no faster did it hit the floor than Bruce filled his fists with the collar of Jack’s shirt and pinned him to the closest wall. Instead of a gasp another laugh escaped Jack’s lips, a crooked smile stretching across his face as he stifled more chuckles. 

“I don’t care what you do as long as you stay out of my way” Bruce growled.

It was this moment that Jack decided that he would do everything in his power to get in Bruce’s way. 

At this close range, their noses almost meeting, Bruce could finally take a good look at the boy. It was remarkable how pale he was, almost completely white, he looked like a delicate piece of china, held too hard and he might just break. Almost as tall as Bruce but far skinnier, much less muscle, and his uniform… dirtied, crumpled, he even wore the wrong pants. It was ironic, he seemed so soft and delicate and yet his clothing was that of someone who only owned one pair of socks. It didn’t seem to add up, this elite, stuck-up private schooled housed such a boy who couldn’t afford even the uniform not to mention the horrific school fees. Bruce let his eyelids fall and took in a deep breath through his nose. The boy smelt wonderful, he noticed. His eyes quickly shot open, embarrassed, Bruce softened his grip, allowing Jack’s shoes to tap the concrete. 

“Just let me do what I need to do” Bruce repeated, now completely releasing his grip, he took a step back. Neither spoke for a moment, the billionaire with his eyes to the floor and Jack’s gaze on him, that vexing smile still plastered across his face. Bruce had never met anyone he couldn’t read, and yet the boy standing just a few feet in front of him was something foreign, unpredictable. It both fascinated Bruce and made him nervous. His heartbeat quickened in his chest just at the thought of him. Anxiety, Bruce thought to himself. Unsure of what to do next and positive that he would not be able to gather any evidence with Jack in the room, Bruce broke the silence. Not with words but with his footsteps as he retreated, leaving Jack alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't get anyone to beta test this because I don't have any batjokes friends which is SO SAD but apologies for any mistakes if they're there................... I really wanted Bruce to properly meet Jack this chapter but I didnt really want the chapters to be more than 2k words so,,,, next chapter it is 
> 
> sorry its a little slow so far setting up the concept but we'll get there guys #slowburn sdfghjkl


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